Truth, Justice And The American Way: Part 1
by Nighthawk5
Summary: When Mac finds two women dead, she resolves to uncover the truth but when she is ordered to drop the investigation and concentrate on another case, she discovers a chain of serial killings and the cryptic clues the murderer leaves with his victims.
1. Cold, Rainy Monday Mornings

_"Truth, Justice And The American Way: Part One- Seeking Truth""_

_Disclaimer:_ While this disclaimer will be about as useful to me as a hardback copy of Michael Moore's "Dude Where's My Country" in a court of law, I feel obliged to provide a spiel about how I don't own the characters, surprisingly enough. If you feel like suing me, go ahead- have no money. Feel like prosecuting me for violation of international copyright laws? Oh please do, I'm on holidays now and I'm kinda bored, so a stint in the brig'd be cool. *coughs* And I"ve always wanted to be arrested- 

Police officer (ie. pig): 'do you understand these rights as I've just read them to you?'

Me: No, I think you'd better repeat them.

Pig: *repeats lil speech*

Me: No, I think you'd better repeat them--- he he *sniggers*

Time frame: Meh, before end of Season 8/ beginning of Season 9 

_Genre: _Action/Adventure/Mystery

_Rating: _PG-13 due to themes and violence (YAY! *cheers* action!)

_Spoilers: _None.

_Summary: _When Captain Seraphine McGrath, a legal officer based in the local area accuses an NCO of spreading rumours about her and her alleged relationship with her CO, Mac is asked to intervene. Meanwhile, several NCO's from a Navy institution come forward with allegations against their CO regarding harassment. When Mac finds two of the women dead, she resolves to uncover the truth but when the other three women withdraw their charges and she is ordered to drop the investigation, she is forced to turn her attentions back to her previous case. Further investigation into the rumours spread about McGrath leads her to a continued series of near-identical killings and no apparent answers to the cryptic clues the murderer gives her.

*           *           *           *           *           *

"Cold, Rainy Monday Mornings" 

Ordinarily, Mac wasn't a huge aficionada of Monday mornings. And cold Monday mornings… well those she disliked. Cold, rainy Monday mornings… she hated them. Grudgingly admitting to herself that her abhorrence to cold, rainy Monday mornings was the lack of romantic relations in her life, thereby bringing to light the gapping black hole that was her love life and the other nasty statistical fact that as far as romance was concerned, any upturn in her amorous pursuits was about as likely as her waking up on a cold, rainy Monday morning next to her gorgeous best friend.

In shorter terms, cold, rainy, Monday mornings were the epitome of all she hated about being single.

So with the day not looking inviting and the uncanny feeling that in a few hours she'd regret the decision to get out of bed that morning, she pulled the covers to her chin and lay in bed. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes.

'Harm' was her first thought.

Cursing quietly, she pondered the strange tendency of her thoughts to gravitate around Harm. Sighing again, she allowed herself to slip into a reverie.

Suddenly it occurred to her that it was seven o'clock. Groaning, she realised she was going to be late if she didn't get herself into the shower within the ensuing seconds, she somehow (or rather, for some reason) managed to extract herself from the warm, comforting covers, and endure the cold, rainy Monday morning, complete with wet hair, no breakfast and slow traffic which demonstrated the devastating effects of automatic cars driven by manual minds.

"Colonel Mackenzie?" Bud called to her as she entered the office, several minutes late.

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"The Admiral would like to see you in his office. Commander Turner and Commander Rabb are already in there Ma'am."

"Thanks Bud," she replied, inwardly kicking and screaming in protest. A pow-wow with the Admiral and the other senior staff members that she was late for did not make a brilliant start to a Monday morning. Not only did it almost certainly mean a full weeks worth of work from before sunrise to after sunset, it also entailed getting her ass kicked before the first cup of coffee. She sighed, only barely lifting her feet out of a trudge as she approached Tiner.

"Ma'am," he announced, standing at attention.

"Thankyou Tiner," she responded dejectedly, feeling ten times tireder now then before she had seen Bud.

"He's waiting for you Ma'am."

"I was afraid of that."

She paused at the door, her hand on the handle, knocking apprehensively and staring with dread.

"Enter," the Admiral hollered through the wood.

Though she was expecting his reply, she jumped a little and turned the handle, trying to accomplish the impossible task of making it into a chair without being placed under thorough scrutiny.

"I know you don't have a good excuse for being late Colonel, so I won't force you to come up with a bad one," the CO informed her dryly, sounding less than amused, "But don't let it happen again in this lifetime, or you may find the said lifetime comes to a very sudden end. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir," she answered confidently, while internally cowering from the Admiral's glare.

"Take a seat," he requested.

She complied, glancing at Harm and Sturgis. Turner nodded in acknowledgement of her presence. Harm went one better and smirked in greeting. She met his eye with a glare that would've wiped the smile off anyone else's face. He grinned back at her then turned his attention back to the Admiral, who appeared to be enjoying the Monday as much as she was.

"As I have told the Commanders, there are a number of high-profile cases making their way onto my desk, and only three of you. In accordance with this, I've assigned each case a junior officer as well, to act as assistant counsel. Help them out, and I'd like an assessment of each of their performances. Some of them may have to handle cases akin to these as individuals unless something happens about the staff shortages around here."

Chegwidden paused before continuing, "As you all know, and as I've just briefed the Commanders, in a recent training exercise, one of our F-14 fleet acquired the status of permanently grounded. As a result of this, both crewmembers are dead. The problem arose when the Article 32 report claimed that it was due to negligence that the accident occurred and that the Tomcat was unfit to fly that day. The OIC of the maintenance crew is being charged with negligent homicide, among other things. Commander Turner, you'll prosecute with Commander Mannetti assisting you, Commander Rabb, you'll defend along with Lieutenant Roberts. I trust you can brief your co-counsels?"

"Yes Sir," they replied respectively.

"You two can be dismissed, Colonel Mackenzie I'd like you to remain behind."

Sturgis and Harm stood, came to attention (A/N: The Navy slide *shudders*) and before leaving the office responded with, "Aye aye Sir." (A/N: Why the Navy can't speak English, I do not know…)

"Sir?" Mac prompted, curious as to why she had no work to do.

"Colonel, I want to keep one of you three relatively free in case something comes up. The way this morning is going, you'll be double-booked all week by lunchtime. I do have something for you though," he pushed a manila folder across the desk, "At a Marine training facility in the district, the JAG has reported a junior officer serving as an instructor is spreading rumours about her and making improper suggestions in a manner which includes using provoking speech. It would be relatively simple if the alleged rumour spreading wasn't solely regarding the JAG's relationship with her Commanding Officer and the fact that there is reason to believe these claims may actually be true."

Mac stared at the file in her hands, "The NCO accused of spreading the rumours is a man then Sir?" she commented sarcastically.

"No, actually Colonel, it's a woman. One Sergeant Purdy as a matter of fact."

Mac continued to read.

"Apparently things are getting very catty down there Colonel, and I wanted to make sure I sent someone who would approach the investigation with… some sought of understanding of the female psyche."

Mac smiled, "Something men have yet to perfect Sir?"

"You could put it that way."

"It all sounds reasonably trivial Sir. I mean, it's been said that if you put two or more female Marines in a confined space they'll either kill each other or everyone around them, but this…" she paused, "This is a dispute between colleagues that got out of hand."

"Prejudging Colonel?"

"Maybe a little Sir."

"Approach it with an open mind. There's no frat charges yet, but if you could find out for sure," he paused, "It would be another positive outcome of you investigation."

"Yes Sir."

"That'll be all, dismissed."

"Aye aye Sir," she replied, exiting with the manila folder under one arm.

When she reached her office, she found Harm waiting for her in her chair with an amused look on his face.

"Oh come on, I was five minutes late, it wasn't that funny," she retorted, tossing the manila file in front of him and glaring.

"Yeah well, for once it wasn't me. So what happened after we left?"

"Not much. I got another boring investigation into the latest catfight down at Quantico."

"They hold regular catfights there?"

"No, but its all pretty stupid. Some Sergeant's spreading rumours that the JAG's sleeping with her CO," Mac shrugged, "Happens everywhere. I don't know why these two have got so serious."

"Serious in that you're conducting the Article 32?"

"Yeah."

"Oh well, I get my day in court, and you get to play referee," he grinned, "Sounds a fair punishment for being late on a Monday morning."

"It was cold and rainy," she answered in her defence.

"Yes, and I endured the harshness of the weather to see you Colonel, and you disappointed me," he informed her, getting up and meeting her at the door.

"How so Commander?"

"I had to wait a whole two minutes before you arrived," he answered, exiting looking very pleased with himself.

Mac watched him leave, doing the math, "You were late too damnit," she laughed quietly before sitting at her desk and typing a one-word e-mail.

It read: hypocrite.

*           *           *           *           *           *


	2. Homing Missiles

_"Homing Missiles"_

A/N: Well, I have to tear myself away from fanfiction to finish my History and English assignments. Grr… *growls* Brb… *growls some more*

*grins*

Am back, will write… 

Oh, I figured the entire plot out last night- if I write it well it should be good. *grins*

*           *            *            *            *            *

Mac dashed for the cover of the entrance to the base as grey clouds fulfilled their promise of rain. She slipped her cap garrison (A/N: I WANT ONE! Ahem, *coughs*) and walked toward the administration building. After registering herself as a visitor, she followed the directions of the corporal at the desk to the legal office.

She was met by two Marines, who reflexively snapped to attention as soon as she entered. 

"Ma'am," the commissioned officer acknowledged her.

"Thank you Captain," Mac responded traditionally.

"If I'm not interrupting," she waited for confirmation before continuing, "I'm looking for Captain McGrath?"

"You're looking at her Ma'am," the Captain replied, "You'd be Colonel Mackenzie Ma'am?"

"Yes Captain."

"If you could just wait one second, I'll be finished here," she requested.

"Sure."

The Captain resumed her conversation for a total of 50 seconds according to Mac, but other than that, she was true to her word. Once Mac was seated opposite the Captain in the small office she shared with someone else who wasn't present, Seraphine McGrath suggested a conversation.

"I'm just going to ask you a few general questions Captain, a bit of an orientation for me, Ok?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Firstly, you're Captain Seraphine McGrath, USMC?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Nice name Captain."

"Thank you Ma'am."

"You look relatively young Captain, where else have you been posted?"

"I was posted on a few ships, two warships, one carrier. About three years ago I was posted here, and here I am Ma'am."

"You're service record indicates you're good at what you do. What exactly do you do here?"

"Well Ma'am, this is the first place new USMC personnel come to do their orientation courses. There are also other training activities that take place on base, but mainly we introduce people to the Corps. We run a course for the direct entry officers twice a year, other than that, we're training the maggots, the privates. Before they specialise or do any combat training, we do military familiarisation courses. My role in all this is to serve as legal aid and assistance to the CO, same sought of stuff you do on board a ship, or operational base. I'm also in charge of the logistics and legal side of the training, what we can and can't do with the maggots, the limits we have to set of physical training, separation of men and women," she paused, "Just stuff like that. Due to staff shortages, I also brief the members of each course on the military's legal system, the policies regarding harassment and discrimination, OH&S, the codes they'll be expected to uphold as members of the Marines, etcetera, etcetera. I'll also sit down and discuss contracts with them at the end of the training period, which is when they have to commit to service or not."

She inhaled deeply before continuing, "It's all reasonably procedural, but I like watching the development that occurs during the month the groups are here. Does that answer your question Ma'am?"

"Yes, thanks Captain. Uh, I'd like to ask you about your relationship with Sergeant Purdy." 

"We've known each other since high school Ma'am. I've always been reasonably good friends with her, we've always worked well with each other and she's teased me before, but all in good fun. It's not like what she's saying now is any different from a year or so ago, I mean, it's a bit different, but now she's being more accusatory, rather than mocking and far more public. The entire base seems to know what she's teasing me about these days."

"So she's said things like this before?"

"Yes Ma'am, about heaps of guys. But it was always jokes before this, good-natured banter, friendly exchanges of argument."

"And you say this is different? Why? What exactly is she saying?"

"She's been telling people that," the Captain stopped in contemplation, "That I'm in love with Tom, I mean, Brigadier General McNeil, that he's having an affair with me, that I'm sleeping with him, that he favours me because of it, that the reason I was promoted was because…"

Mac interrupted, "I get the picture Captain."

She noted that the officer had used her CO's first name, scribbling it on the top of her notes, not sure if she should ask about it. The woman seemed to be getting defensive already; any questioning regarding the truth of the rumours might ruin any positive outcomes of the interview.

"When did she start spreading these rumours? Why did it bother you this time? And how did it come to your attention that these rumours were circulating?"

"Purdy started spreading these rumours about a week after I was promoted, almost 3 months ago now. I didn't report it at first, because I thought if I ignored it, it'd just go away, but it didn't. I asked her to stop saying the things she was saying about me, but she refused Ma'am."

"And why did it worry you?"

"Because everyone knew, and they believed it. It wouldn't be half as bad if they saw no truth in what she was saying, but they all thought it was true. It was as though I didn't deserve my promotion all of a sudden. My colleagues stopped treating me the way they used to, everything started to change.

You asked how I found out Ma'am? I found out because in one of my lectures with a new  group of particularly self-pleased students, one of them called something out to me to the effect of: 'are you the one screwing the CO?' That's how I found out the extent of what she was saying about me. I can't professionally function in an environment where there is constant speculation about my integrity as an officer and my personal life Ma'am."

"I understand that Captain," she sighed, thinking of similar speculation at JAG. Typically the latest rumours about her and Harm were so far off par with reality that it almost amused her.

She asked another question, "Do the personnel of this base have any reason to believe what the Sergeant is saying about you? I'm not saying the rumours are true in any way, but is there a possibility that your relationship with General McNeil could be perceived in such a way?"

"I suppose, very vaguely, that there is a possibility. But what I dislike is that I correct people when they're mistaken, but they don't believe me. I can't do anything about it. I spend a lot of time working with General McNeil, I have to in doing my job, and a lot of the time we're here late, together, sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of others. Maybe some people see that as something other than work, but it's not Ma'am."

"Do you spend time outside of working hours with General McNeil?"

The look on the Captain's face immediately changed. Sensing trouble, Mac added, "I just noticed you used his first name before, and I was wondering."

"Yes Ma'am. We're good friends. I'm also friends with his wife and sometimes I baby-sit their kids."

"Captain, a lot of the time friendship is construed as more than friendship."

"I know that Ma'am."

"I don't mean to offend you, but I have to ask you, is there any truth in what Purdy is saying?"

"No, I don't think so Ma'am. I mean, I'm not sleeping with him, and he certainly isn't having an affair with anyone. But does he favour me? Maybe he does, but only a little, and not because of our personal relationship."

"In what way Captain?"

"Oh just little things. General McNeil is generally a very reasonable commanding officer. He lets minor slips go unnoticed. I don't normally slip up in any way, I'm reasonably good at what I do Ma'am. But recently, due to personal circumstances, I've found coping with an increased workload a little difficult. He helped me though that, didn't comment when I was late, didn't criticise when I failed to meet deadlines. Maybe that's favourism, I don't know."

"You obviously know the sir reasonably well. Do you believe he'd do that for anyone?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Captain, why do you think Sergeant Purdy is spreading these rumours?"

"I honestly have no idea Ma'am."

"Ok, before I leave, do you have a professional opinion on this matter or any personal desired results of this investigation?"

"Yes Ma'am. All I want from this is for the scuttlebutt to stop. I don't care what people privately think, but I'm sick of being exposed to people's private thoughts. I'm also tired of people refusing to believe the truth. I don't want to cause any damage to Sergeant Purdy's career. I just want her to stop saying things about me that aren't true. I know a lot of people, a lot of high-ranking officials, think along similar lines. General McNeil has approached me about warnings and idle threats he's received because of his relationship with me. Really, I'd just like to be able to do my job without being degraded and humiliated and accused of things of this nature, and without the suggestion that the reason I'm successful is because of any other reason than my dedication to what I do. I work hard Ma'am. I hate it when people think the only reason I am where I am is through doing sexual favours."

"Ok Captain, thank you for your time. I'll talk to Sergeant Purdy as well as General McNeil and a few other people here, and then I'll talk to you again before I file my report. I'd like you all to have some input into my recommendations."

"Thank you Ma'am."

"It was nice meeting you Captain."

"You too Ma'am."  
  
They shook hands before parting ways, Mac walking down the corridor in reflective silence. Some of the officer's comments had been a lot like homing missiles striking a little to close to home. 

Mac sighed. 

It was definitely not as simple as a friendship misperceived, she was sure. The woman's reactions to mention of the CO reminded her so much of her own reactions to a certain colleague of her own that she knew that all too well. But she also knew that just because one had feelings for the other, they weren't necessarily sleeping together. She knew that too well too.

Stopping to study a map of the base on a wall, she located Sergeant Purdy's lecture room and training area, preparing herself for another interview.

Arriving just as everyone appeared to be leaving, she met the Sergeant at the door, reading the name badge above the right pocket of her DCPU's. Before the crowd dispersed entirely, the Sergeant called, in a drill sergeant's commanding voice, "STAND FAST." 

The fumbling crowd of privates complied, a little shaky on their feet when it came to drill movements. 

"MA'AM," the Sergeant enunciated, saluting her.

"Thanks Sergeant," Mac replied.

"AS YOU WERE," the Sergeant called to the mob of privates. Some were standing dead still; some still hadn't mastered the skill.

"You're Colonel Mackenzie then Ma'am?"

"Yes Sergeant."

"Captain McGrath said to be expecting you Ma'am. What exactly is it you'd like to discuss?" she asked, leading Mac back into the empty lecture room.

"I'd just like to ask a few questions. I presume you know the extent of the Captain's allegations?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well, procedurally, I have to get both sides of the story, inquire as to what really happened, then make a corroborated recommendation. So I'm just going to ask a few questions to get to know you first, Ok Sergeant?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"You're Sergeant Emma Purdy, USMC?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Your role within the Marines Sergeant, what exactly does it entail?"

"I oversee most of the drill training that takes place on this base. I also take some lectures on things such as military lifestyle and service knowledge, stuff like when to salute, when not to salute, mess procedure and so on Ma'am. My job is to get those guys you saw out there ready for their first parade in less than three weeks," she looked around at the empty room, picking up a forsaken piece of paper which was covered in notes. 'Attention: don't move, feet "55° apart, try to avoid breathing, don't swat flies,' was among other highlights. 

"As you can see, that's a reasonably difficult task Ma'am."

"Better you than me Sergeant. After your description of your job here I'm wondering about how much time you spend with Captain McGrath. Do you encounter her professionally very often?"

"All my training programs have to comply with OH&S and other training regulations. Every once in a while Captain McGrath and myself have to sit down and review the scheduled training. Other than that, I often have to make enquiries into what I can and can't teach, I see her for that and any other legal assistance I need to fulfil my duties Ma'am."

"But how frequently? Once a week, month, year?"

"On a good month, maybe once or twice Ma'am."

"Ok. How would you describe you're relationship with the Captain, on a more personal basis?"

"We went to high school together Ma'am. I've known Seraphine for a very long time. We talk over the Internet; sometimes we see each other at office parties and such. Until now I always thought we were friends, but I guess she sees things differently Ma'am."

"The Captain is worried the rumours you're allegedly spreading about her will be detrimental to her reputation Sergeant. On that note, I'd like to ask a few questions about Captain McGrath's accusations. What exactly have you been saying about her Sergeant?"

"I don't know what she's referring to as damaging rumours. I may have made a few comments regarding her relationship with the CO, but jokingly Ma'am, I wasn't serious."

"What did you say about their relationship?"

"I was just questioning whether it was of a strictly companionable nature or if there was more to it that Captain McGrath was telling me Ma'am."

"Ok, why did you say things like that publicly Sergeant? Surely you could've talked to Captain McGrath privately, without involving the personnel on base?"

"I didn't intentionally 'spread' the rumours around the base. I mentioned several things to a few of my colleagues and it got a bit out of hand Ma'am."

"Why would you say things like that?"

"Well she makes no attempt to hide anything. The Captain is always talking to him Ma'am, she's always in his office on lunch breaks, or walking down the corridor with him, or staying late. Speculation is warranted in many respects. She invites these sorts of rumours by how she advertises their relationship."

"What she says you said is inappropriate for a member of the United States Marine Corps. You do realise the repercussions of your actions don't you Sergeant?"

"Yes Ma'am. I don't believe I've done anything more than participate in some harmless office gossip though. Like I said, Seraphine encourages the enigma around their relationship, but then when someone says what everybody is thinking, they're spreading malicious rumours. It doesn't make sense Ma'am. If she doesn't want people to talk about things like that, why does she do what she does?"

"Do what Sergeant?"

"They're practically joined at the hip. I've never seen Captain McGrath without General McNeil in the past months. I mean, they're close, we know that, we just wonder how close Ma'am. So why does she do it?"

"She probably feels she has the right to keep her personal life private."

"Then with that privacy and secrecy she should accept the assumptions people make Ma'am. If you don't tell people about things, they use their imaginations and make something up that seems to fit in with what they know. Educated guessing Ma'am."

"The Captain mentioned rumours about the reason behind her recent promotion. Have you heard similar gossip Sergeant?"

"Yes Ma'am, I have and I don't believe it. I had nothing to do with that. I don't question Captain McGrath's ability as an officer. She's very good at what she does, and is an incredible asset to me in my role here on base Ma'am."

"So you say you haven't discussed Captain McGrath's promotion with any personnel?"

"No. At the time I offered my congratulations. Everyone knew of course, but there was never any talk about it. The NCO's all thought she was deserving of new slides. And I most certainly had nothing to do with the recent rumours Ma'am."

"In your opinion Sergeant, what is your perception of Captain McGrath's relationship with General McNeil?"

"Permission to speak freely, and in confidence Ma'am?"

"Granted Sergeant, and I won't mention it to anyone."

"Ok. I'd say she really likes him, maybe a little more than really likes him. He sometimes seems interested in her, but he's married, and I think he intends to stay that way. They're friends Ma'am. It's reasonably obvious it's more than that though. Which explains where all the scuttlebutt comes from Ma'am."

"Ok, I think we've addressed all the relevant issues Sergeant. I'll probably want to talk to you again in the next couple of weeks, so I'll call you and let you know when Ok?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Thank you for your time."

"My pleasure Ma'am."

Mac left the classroom on that note and found her own way to the administration building, clutching a pile of notes. It wasn't as boring as she had expected, in fact Captain McGrath reminded her a lot of herself. The whole investigation and situation seemed to be a parody of her own existence. Life was a little too clever sometimes.

*           *            *            *            *            *  
  


A/N: Not sure about the visitors pass bit. Don't know about security procedures on US bases, but one would presume they keep a record of who comes and who goes. You'd be expected to show military ID and all that jazz of course…

I reckon it'd suck being a Colonel or higher (though Brigadier is a choice rank… I like the title: Brigadier Paula Watson… *grins*. You yanks don't have that rank, but it rocks!!) But it'd suck being a high-ranking officer. Everywhere you'd walk, there'd be people saluting you. EVERYONE would salute you as you passed. One would feel very conspicuous. And not only would everyone salute you, you'd have to return everyone's salute. It'd get stupid after a while. Try walking outside the office (meaning you'd have to put your hat on cuz you'd be outside, and when your hat is on, you must salute) to have lunch or something… (Not that you salute in a mess, because you don't wear a hat in a mess, but…) Yeah, I reckon that'd be the pits. I'd get sick of it after a while and probably tell everyone base to quit it. It'd be like: "I know you all know I'm a much, much, much higher ranking officer than you. It's ok, you don't have to salute me all the time, I know this too."

But you know, some officers feel the need to be saluted… makes them feel special. *shrugs* I *know* I'm special… but I guess some people are insecure.

Apologies for all the questions punctuated with 'Ma'am', but Mac's superior to McGrath, so naturally, McGrath is 'Ma'am'-ing her ass off… as you do, as you do.

OH&S stands for Operations Health & Safety. Don't know what the Yanks use, that's the Aussie code, but you get the general drift… the one that keep peeps from falling of cliffs during war games, etc etc.

Forgive me for being Australian. I have translated all the law involved in this into the American codes, but some of the military details that aren't on paper are hard to translate over... all of what I say is correct in the ADF (I think), I don't know about the American Services.

Oh and in case people didn't know, DCPU stands for Disruptive Patterned Camouflage Uniform.


	3. First Impressions

"First Impressions" 

*           *           *           *           *           *  
 

Mac was trying to ignore the happenings of her surroundings. It was 1830 local time in DC and the sun was just starting to set in the West and the light cast a golden glow around the small expanse of parkland in suburban Georgetown. To the East, the mountains were shadowy and snow-capped, towering forebodingly in the dim light that surrounded them and looking like they had stepped directly out of a Tolkein novel. The concrete path beneath her feet was rough and warm, despite the relentless grasp of winter on the city, dirty slush that was once snow glistening in the late afternoon light, waiting to harden to ice as the night descended. She shivered, sliding her feet into her shoes again as the temperature lowered several degrees and the light lowered toward the horizon once more. 

Across the path was a small pool, a thin layer of ice still covering most of the water. She had watched it grow thinner and thinner as the days wore on. The way the ducks honked, slipped, slid and stood on the ice always amused her. Today the birds were paddling around the pond, calling to each other in the same way. She smiled. She truly loved this time of year- before Spring when the snow started to melt and the temperature started to rise, the sunset got later, the days longer and weather all together more tolerable. The number of people in the park dwindled as children made their way home and late afternoon joggers took refuge from the evening air. Mac liked coming here. She liked to think about things- the surroundings always seemed to help her gain perspective. Shivering again, she tugged the zipper of her jacket upward and wrapped her arms around her sides, the paper on her lap shifting slightly in the light breeze. 

She lowered her eyes to the papers again, the light making it difficult to read her notes, not that she couldn't remember what they contained. She was pondering the Article 32 investigation. It wasn't difficult to see that Sergeant Purdy didn't think what she had said was serious enough to warrant punishment. The Sergeant was hard and loud- exactly the way Mac remembered her own drill instructor from her training days. The drill sergeant screaming at her before their first parade was her clearest memory of her four weeks in the induction course. Her shoes had not been polished to a satisfactory standard and he had grown rather passionate in his speech about dress and bearing. The reason she remembered it was he had accidentally showered her with saliva and she had been forced to stand at attention for the entire duration of the parade with spit just above her cheekbone. At the time she had been disgusted, but now it did seem slightly funny- sort of like the time someone had laced her GPs together and when woken before dawn, she'd slipped them on without realising, ending up flat on her face in the middle of the dorm with everybody laughing at her. There had been revenge though she remembered- a little tanning oil on the ledge of her bunk and the culprit, her bunkmate, had ended up on the ground following an unsuccessful scramble to regain her balance on her climb to the top bed. Unfortunately for her the drill sergeant mentioned above had chosen that moment to enter the rooms and yell at them all for being late to mess, so the joy was short-lived. Yes, Sergeant Purdy was typical for a drill sergeant- very loud.

Captain Seraphine McGrath, on the other hand, was rather quiet. The woman was shorter than herself, and seemed altogether small. It wasn't her size, rather her manner. She was polite and well spoken and it had taken a lot to incense her in the slightest. She was a likeable person, with an agreeable demeanour. It was clear to Mac that the Captain was at least somewhat besotted by her CO but did not take her as the type to act on any such feelings. Even if she could bring herself to ignore the legal ramifications or implications to her otherwise successful career, McGrath was too shy to initiate or indeed respond to any sort of advance in that direction, especially by an older man and high-ranking officer. By his rank Mac could tell that Lt General McNeil had to be five years older than herself, and doing the calculations, she realised that there would be at least twenty years between the CO and his legal officer- another fact that made the pair an unlikely match.

Her first impressions were usually trustworthy. 

The breeze grew stronger then, as the last light disappeared and the first stars became visible in the twilight. The pages of notes in her lap stirred, then floated onto the footpath, carried by the wind. Jumping up, she chased after them, sliding a little on the ice and laughing at herself. Gathering the now wet collection of paper one sheet at a time, she ended up staring over out over the pond, as the final page of her notes blew over the water, settling itself between two ducks and starting a series of ripples that travelled from the centre of the pond to meet her at the bank. Her hands, only covered by thin gloves meant to be worn under ski gloves in the snow, were numb with cold. Folding the paper and placing it inside her pockets along with her hands she watched the ducks pick at the paper in confusion, the light from half a silver orb reflected in the water. Turning her gaze to the moon, she watched as it peeked out at her from behind a cloud, still laughing quietly.

*           *           *           *           *           *

A/N: Uh yeah, I know it didn't contain all too much- will make more sense as the story progresses.


	4. Rituals

"Rituals"  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Sarah Mackenzie invariably started her day at work by depositing her belongings in her office and taking the fastest route to the break room. She usually arrived at work at least half an hour early, because she preferred the office when it was quiet and she usually liked to enjoy her first caffeine hit alone. That would leave her twenty, maybe thirty minutes before another trip to the break room was an order. Today however she was late and just in time for the 0850 exchange of the latest rumours in the break room. By this time every morning, the small room would be as crowded as it got and the day's unofficial brief would begin. It wasn't that she lived for office gossip, but it was important to keep up with the latest news. At 0900 the room would be deserted but for her. She always waited to taunt Harm about being late, and she was usually rewarded with the stunning reaction of a true non-morning person. Today was much the same as any other day, except she was accompanied by Commander Sturgis Turner who was also waiting for the arrival of Harmon Rabb Jnr. Turner knew her little morning ritual by heart and never passed up an opportunity to tease her about it.  
  
After enduring five long minutes of intense mockery, Mac decided she'd had enough of damaging the Navy's ego with scathing retorts for one morning. She tactfully steered the conversation in another direction, "So why are you waiting here with me anyway?"  
  
"Because much the same as I delight in teasing you about him, I also tease him about you and I also know exactly what he'll do when he gets here- put his stuff down and come straight in here to flirt with you."  
  
"Get back in line Commander- we do not flirt!" she objected, only slightly offended and more so because her attempt at a topic change had blatantly failed.  
  
"No, but he does," Turner informed her.  
  
"He does not," she protested again, quite sure she wouldn't mind if he *did* flirt with her occasionally. She didn't add this remark, but Sturgis obviously read her mind, judging by his subsequent snort. She had long abandoned trying to give Commander Turner the 'we're just friends' line and pretend she didn't have certain more-than-friendly feelings for Harm. It was pointless. Turner had decided she was in love with him before she'd had a chance to open her mouth and then when she had- well, what she had said then was not exactly the best rebuttal to that assertion.  
  
"Whatever you say Colonel," was the disbelieving response.  
  
"He practically treats me like a sister," she retorted, vaguely remembering that she'd promised not to bother having this argument with Sturgis several mornings ago, "How can you say he flirts with me?"  
  
"I don't think Harm thinks of you as a sister Mac."  
  
"Really? And I suppose you claim to know how he *does* think of me?"  
  
"Well yes actually."  
  
Realising she may have uncovered a valuable information source, she proceeded, "Have you had this conversation with him- about how he thinks of me?"  
  
"The topics of our conversations do vary however you are one topic he invariably glosses over. On the other hand, I have known him for a very long time and also know the way he treats women---"  
  
She snorted, "Yeah, the opposite to how he treats me."  
  
"And I also happen to be male, so I have more insight into the male mind than yourself, being female and all- no offence."  
  
"None taken. Cut to the chase Turner, this is getting awfully long."  
  
"So due to this perspective that I have and you don't, I can assure you that when he's studiously studying your chest he's not looking at your ribbons."  
  
"Commander!" she responded, shocked at his forthcoming attitude, "We're in a military institution, mind your mouth!"  
  
"Ah, but you see Colonel, I have nothing to worry about because on one occasion you forgot to mind yours and let slip a very interesting piece of information which I am sure you do not want revealed."  
  
"Are you black mailing me?" she asked.  
  
"No, but I like to make sure you haven't forgotten."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "How in hell could I forgot? Not that feelings don't change over time you understand. And it has been 305 days since I said that."  
  
"I don't think things have changed much."  
  
"Oh really? That's presumptuous of you."  
  
He shrugged, "I was thinking more along the lines of 'perceptive' myself, but whatever you would label it."  
  
"Harm does not check me out anyway," she informed him.  
  
"Has it ever occurred to you that this is half your problem?"  
  
"What problem? How many times have we been through this, there is no problem."  
  
"Then why aren't you with him?"  
  
"Because--- ooh, I am not having this conversation with you."  
  
"See your problem is that neither of you is willing to admit that the other is in fact entirely besotted with you. Excuse me for notifying you, but you are an attractive woman and he does not see a Marine Corps Lt Colonel when he looks at you, he sees an attractive woman and much as he is loathe to admit it, he is in fact intimidated by you because of that. Really, you need to learn to read the man better: it's because he's afraid of you, and to be fair, you are trained to kill so that may be understandable, but it has absolutely nothing to do with your incorrect assumption that he is not entirely smitten with you."  
  
"And what makes you say that?"  
  
"He is incredibly devoted to this little morning chat of yours you know. Mac, we're talking about Harm here- any kind of commitment is a miracle. The fact that this little meeting occurs every morning at precisely 0905 is the closest thing you'll ever see to a sign from the Lord thy God above," he paused, "Which is of course why I am waiting with you this morning, because trying to stop him on his way here is incredibly unproductive. I get the side-step-Turner-and-hurry-to-Mac reaction every time."  
  
"Has it ever occurred to you that this may be because you are unfailingly annoying this time of day?"  
  
"No, I'm just in a good mood today," he responded with an infuriating grin.  
  
"We do not flirt," she murmured indignantly as Harm finally made it to the door at precisely 0905.  
  
"Hey," he nodded to Sturgis before turning to Mac and flashing her a huge smile which she knew was always followed by a brutal taunt, "Hmm, Marine, you look different this morning."  
  
She raised an eyebrow in response, painfully aware of Turner's I-told-you- so look as Harm looked her up and down. Stepping closer to her, he took her hand and motioned for her to spin around. She complied rather unwillingly.  
  
"It's your hair," he finally announced, "It's different to usual---"  
  
He grinned at her impudently, "It's wet, which means you were late."  
  
At her glare he added, "Not that I'm complain about you being all wet you see, that I have no problem with. But you've been late two mornings in a row- jeez, I must be rubbing off on you."  
  
Sturgis' smug smile was replaced by a suppressed fit of self-pleased laughter.  
  
Mac rolled her eyes in utmost exasperation, "Turner, don't you dare say I told you so- there was absolutely no innuendo in that last statement and your reaction was entirely due to your twisted perception."  
  
"Oh I don't know, the part about being all wet was pretty hot considering the temperature," Sturgis replied.  
  
"And I can rub off on you any time if you like Mac," Harm interjected.  
  
"Your Honour, case in point," Sturgis grinned triumphantly.  
  
"Harm," Mac began, "Do we flirt with each other?"  
  
"Oh I don't know Mac," he responded with a grin, much to her annoyance and Sturgis' amusement.  
  
"He," she pointed a condemning finger at Turner, "Thinks you look at my b--- chest."  
  
"Sturgis, you weren't meant to tell her I said that."  
  
"Ooh," Mac exhaled in disbelief, "I---"  
  
They were both laughing at her now. Simmering silently, a brilliant comeback suddenly came to mind. She closed the minimal distance between herself and Harm, hands on hips and smiled.  
  
"You just admitted to checking me out."  
  
He stopped laughing.  
  
Her smile widened, "You did, you just said, by default, that you do in fact- --"  
  
"Yeah, well they're there Mac," he interrupted gesturing to the contours of her blouse.  
  
She giggled, "So that's why you lost to me last week then? You were too busy looking at my--- feminine attributes!"  
  
He didn't know how to diplomatically respond.  
  
"Why didn't someone tell me about this earlier? Think how many cases I would've won by wearing the shorter of my skirts."  
  
"Think how many great plea bargains we could've reached," he added, "If you'd been persuasive enough of course."  
  
Her mouth opened slightly but she closed it again, a sly smile upturning her lips, "So many innocent people would've gone to jail Harm, think of how well I'd be able to persuade you."  
  
"Don't encourage him," Turner advised as though he was the authority on the matter, "You don't want to know just how graphically he wants you."  
  
"Uh Sirs, Ma'am," Harriet stuck her head through the doorway trying to conceal her flushed cheeks and hence, obvious eavesdropping, "Ma'am, the Admiral wants you for something."  
  
She ducked out before any of the officers had a chance to respond. At the use of the phrase 'wants you' Turner and Rabb laughed and Mac had the uncanny feeling she was being ganged up on.  
  
"Go on Mac, the Admiral *wants* you, you'd better go," Harm teased mercilessly.  
  
"I thought you wanted me?" she shot back.  
  
"Nah, I just like looking at your legs."  
  
"What's the fun in looking when you can play?"  
  
"Safer looking," he replied cryptically.  
  
"You've been known to take crazy risks before," Turner interrupted, "I'm surprised you haven't been damned to a straight jacket by now."  
  
"What's it to you?" Harm asked his friend with a look that suggested he keep out of the conversation.  
  
"I'm sick of having to listen you go on about her hair, her eyes and I quote 'breathtakingly gorgeous looks and unbelievably sexy hips'. No offence, but a guy can only take so much before he is forced to intervene."  
  
"He didn't say that," was Mac's immediate reaction. She turned to Harm, "You didn't say that."  
  
He looked like a cat caught with its paw in a fish tank.  
  
She stared disbelievingly, "You said that?"  
  
"Well I think saying quote-unquote is a bit melodramatic---" Harm looked for a suitable answer.  
  
"But he did say that," Sturgis supplied.  
  
"I'm going to kill you," Harm informed Sturgis idly, "I am going to cause you a painful death."  
  
"Ah, but, while we're revealing all this, you wouldn't believe what Mac's told me. Among the myriad of other interesting titbits I've managed to elicit from her, a sampling: your eyes are 'the most amazingly non-sexual turn on' she's ever been exposed to and your smile well that makes her 'weaker in the knees than climbing every mountain in the Himalayans' would."  
  
Harm almost felt sorry for Sturgis as he watched the expression on Mac's face change- almost. He had never thought the Marine capable of cold- blooded murder, but seeing the way her jaw had dropped and her fists were clenched he wasn't so sure.  
  
"You," she began venomously, "Were sworn to secrecy about what I told you about him."  
  
"No," Turner notified her plainly, "I was sworn to secrecy about what you told me on one occasion in my office 305 days ago I believe. On everything else there was no specific confidentiality agreement."  
  
"I cannot believe you," she hissed, "You are---"  
  
"Mac," Harm decided to intervene before he had to defend her in court martial for murder in the break room.  
  
"You---"  
  
"Mac," he repeated, using the close proximity to him she had placed herself within to place a hand on her arm.  
  
"What?" she whirled to face him and almost knocked him over, not realising how close they were.  
  
When they both ended up against the bench, he steadied her and responded, "Leave him. We can get our revenge."  
  
"But---"  
  
"Mac, I know his father. Just think, baby photos, posted on the staff website- it's Ok, we'll get him back."  
  
She sniggered softly, "Ok. Turner, you live, for today. But open your God forsaken mouth one more damned time and I will ensure you do not die of natural causes."  
  
Sturgis chose that moment to retreat to his office, wisely locking the door behind him.  
  
"Coward," she muttered, observing his actions from the doorway.  
  
"Did you really say that stuff Mac?"  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"Well some of it- he elaborated a lot."  
  
"Uh yeah, he added the poetry about mountain ranges."  
  
"Did you mean that stuff?"  
  
"When I said it. You?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She smiled, "After how much alcohol did my looks get breathtakingly gorgeous?"  
  
He briefly considered his options before selecting the most certain way to trip her up, "None."  
  
Her smile grew smaller and her eyes wider. He grinned at her, enjoying her reaction immensely, "Run along now Colonel, the Admiral *wants* you if I recall correctly."  
  
He noticed her swallow nervously before replying flirtatiously, "I'm sure he does- lots of people do."  
  
"I want you," he began, pausing to see the return of her wide-eyed facial expression, "To have lunch with me," he finished.  
  
"Of course you do," she grinned back, her momentary loss of stable ground overcome.  
  
He smiled at her, "You'd better go."  
  
She nodded, "Come and find me when you're ready."  
  
"Ok. Lunch it is then."  
  
She smiled.  
  
It was one of their rituals.  
  
* * * * * * 


	5. Blood In Silver Spring stupid title, but...

"Blood In Silver Spring"  
  
A/N: Some morbidity. Warning for murder scene- slightly graphic if your imagination works.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
It was 0935 before Mac finally made it into Chegwidden's office to find Lieutenant Commander Tracy Mannetti already seated. After standing her easy and inviting her to take a seat, the RADM sighed and leaned back against his chair.  
  
"How's your work load Colonel?" he asked, lobbing the question in her general direction casually.  
  
"Lighter than usual Sir," she replied cautiously, "Why do you ask, Sir?"  
  
He straightened his back, rested and then folded his arms against the desk and pushed a file across to her, "It just got heavier. Three female NCO's, Chief Petty Officer Sophie O'Donnell, Petty Officer Second Class Melinda Houston and Able Seaman Lucinda Mendel have all filed complaints of sexual harassment against Captain Thomas Robinson, their commanding officer. Commander Mannetti, you're defending- pick a co-counsel if you can find someone free, but I think you can handle it on your own. Colonel?"  
  
She looked up from the file and returned his gaze, "Sir?"  
  
"Prosecution."  
  
"Yes Sir."  
  
"Captain Robinson intends to discharge instead of renewing his commission and run for Senate in the mid-term elections coming up later this year. He has political aspirations and this would be a potentially fatal detriment to his image in that regard. There may be some press control needed- he's reasonably high profile at the moment in the lead up to his campaign. Between the two of you, I am sure you will be able to manage without causing any lasting damage to the reputation of the services. That means you are not authorised to use any combat training you may or may not have undergone to subdue the media, however annoying they may be and/or tempting assault is. Trial dates are set for Thursday; I'm trying to get everything through as fast as possible because it seems to be appearing on my desk faster than it is leaving. We're still short of judges of course, so I trust you will manage to get this along quickly. Any questions?"  
  
"No Sir," the women replied in unison.  
  
"Then get to work."  
  
"Yes Sir."  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
They both rose, came to attention and replied, "Aye Sir."  
  
Once outside the office, Mannetti turned to her and said, "Interested in a deal Ma'am?"  
  
Mac laughed, "After I read the files Commander."  
  
"How about we discuss it over lunch?"  
  
The other woman started to agree before remembering her previous engagement, "Oh I'm sorry, I've already agreed to lunch with someone."  
  
"That's Ok Ma'am, we'll talk tomorrow morning."  
  
"No I can cancel- it's only Commander Rabb, he'll understand."  
  
Mannetti smiled the knowing smile Mac hated getting from her colleagues every time she mentioned Harm's name, "No, you have your lunch. I'd like to go through this stuff first and give it some thought before we discuss anything anyway"  
  
Mac hated being on the other end of those smiles. If she agreed it meant she *wanted* to attend her original appointment, the reason for this constantly overelaborated. If she disagreed, she was trying to appear as though the overelaboration wasn't justified. Sighing, she opted for the former strategy.  
  
"Ok, how about we talk tomorrow morning?" she suggested.  
  
"Sounds good Ma'am."  
  
They were standing outside Mac's office when the junior officer nodded and left, flashing another knowing smile at the sight of her lunch companion hovering nearby. Mac decided she really hated those smiles. Stepping into her office and placing the file on top of her notes on the Article 32 down at Quantico, she picked up the phone and called Captain McGrath to cancel their meeting that afternoon. It took her twenty minutes to arrange to meet Petty Officer Houston and Able Seaman Mendel at 1430 that afternoon. She was listening the phone ringing while waiting for Chief Petty Officer O'Donnell to answer when she noticed afore mentioned lunch companion looking at her inquisitively through the door. Lifting a hand, she motioned for him to come in, a pen between her thumb and forefinger and the phone held to her ear by her shoulder.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked, as someone picked up the phone at the other end, "No sorry, I wasn't talking to you. Hello, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie from the JAG's office. Is Chief Petty Officer O'Donnell there?"  
  
There were several seconds of silence.  
  
"Oh she's not in today? Ok, could you give me her home phone number so I can speak with her? It's in regard to the charges she filed against her CO. Yes, ok, thank you. So that's---" she repeated the number, and put the phone down.  
  
"Don't you have work to do?" she asked, "Something about negligent homicide and a crashed Tomcat. *The* case of the week, as you and Turner never cease to remind me."  
  
"Co-counsel's working on it," he grinned.  
  
"And you're wasting time?"  
  
"En-route to get something photocopied."  
  
"You're on the wrong side of the office- copy room's that way."  
  
"Took a detour- sight-seeing."  
  
She raised an eyebrow, picking up the phone and dialling the number scrawled on a loose leaf of paper in front of her, "Well, I don't know what land marks are in my office, but--- yes hello? Chief, is that you? Hello, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie from the JAG's office. Yes, this is about the charges against Captain Robinson. I'll be presenting the government's case, so yes, I'm on you're side, although I'd advise you not to think of it that way. No one here is against you, we just have to defend him because everyone deserves a fair trial. Anyway, I've organised a meeting this afternoon at 1430 with the other women, and I was wondering--- oh you can't? Can I speak with you this morning? You're sick? Ok, well I can come out and see you if you'd like. Ok, what time? Yes, 1300's fine. Yes, that's Ok. Well I'll see you then," she put the phone down again.  
  
"As I was saying, I don't know what you were hoping to see, however I believe you have work to do."  
  
"Well I wanted to see you," he began, ignoring her suppressed laughter and continuing, "Because someone said you got *the* case of the week and were never going to cease reminding Sturgis and I of it."  
  
"Just a CO harassing his NCO's- no big deal."  
  
"You act as though it happens every day."  
  
"Well, we get more 134's than anything else."  
  
"That's because there's a greater number of offences under Article 134 than any other."  
  
"Well done Newton," she commented sarcastically, "Hey listen, I know I said I'd eat with you, but I've got to meet Chief O'Donnell at 1300 then the others at 1430, so can I postpone it til tomorrow?"  
  
"We're in court all day all week starting tomorrow, but yeah, we'll see."  
  
"Now stop dumping poor Bud with all the work and do what they pay you for," she instructed.  
  
"You know what's strange, we actually pay ourselves with our tax money," he observed idly.  
  
She sniggered, "Yes, now earn it- shoo."  
  
"I was just leaving."  
  
"Good!"  
  
She smiled at the closed door, picking up the folder, gathered her things, deciding reading away from the office on a scenic de-tour of her own would be far more productive than hanging around waiting to drive out to interview Chief O'Donnell.  
  
A quiet park in suburbia was waiting.  
  
* * * * *  
  
1800 ZULU (1300 EST)  
  
"Harm?"  
  
Her voice was panicked; he noticed it as soon as he picked up the phone.  
  
"Mac, what's wrong?"  
  
"No- nothing."  
  
Her reply was shaky.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"At CPO O'Donnell's house," she swallowed nervously, "Harm?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"She's dead."  
  
He knew that was her way of asking him to come and find her.  
  
"Hold on, I'm coming."  
  
She exhaled in relief, "Thank you."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
When he arrived around twenty minutes later, she was still shaking against the wall of the hallway, next to the phone.  
  
"Mac?"  
  
"Oh thank God."  
  
And that was about as much as information he was going to receive from her at that moment. Reaching for her arm, he stepped closer to her and took her hand gently.  
  
"Hey are you Ok?"  
  
She nodded with her eyes closed, gripping his hand tightly.  
  
"What happened?" he asked her when her eyes opened after several silent minutes. Standing independently, she did a lap of the hallway before returning to him and replying, "The Chief and another woman are in there," she pointed to the arch which preceded the entrance to the living room, "Dead," she finished.  
  
"Cause?"  
  
"Hard to tell. There's a lot of blood and it looks like murder in at least one case."  
  
"Murder-suicide?"  
  
"Can't say for sure, but their wounds indicate something like that. It looks like a shooting, but I can't actually remember seeing a weapon. I sort of freaked out when I saw--- it's a real mess in there," she informed him, "Brains all over the wall."  
  
"Have you called the police?"  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Well you do that and I'll go look."  
  
"Couldn't pass up an opportunity to see a body could you Commander?" she jibed, reaching for her cell phone.  
  
"Why not use the land line?"  
  
"It's been cut," she responded, gesturing to the missing piece of wire halfway up the cord along the wall, "Hello, I'm Lt Colonel Sarah Mackenzie of the Navy's Judge Advocate General's office. I was on my way to interview a possible witness this morning and I found her and another woman dead. It appears to be homicide."  
  
He stopped listening at that point, leaving Mac pacing the hallway with the phone to her ear and walking through the kitchen, which was spotless. Continuing into the living room, he understood why she had fled from the room. When he entered, the back of the sofa was facing him, but the curtains of the window next to the chair were billowing the wind, and stained crimson. Rounding the sofa, he first saw the Chief slumped forward in the chair, her head resting on her knees and her feet touching the ground. She was wearing a Navy uniform- a CPO's winter blues. Her right hand- blistered and swollen- gripped the sawn off stock of a .22 semi- automatic Ruger rifle, her index finger resting on the trigger. The barrel had also been sawn off, flush with the rear sight. She had been visibly shot two times- upwards through the jaw into the roof of her mouth and behind the right ear into her skull. Mac was right- her brains were indeed plastered against the wall.  
  
Beside her, another woman was upright on the sofa, with two gunshot wounds to the left side of her head- one near the corner of her mouth and the other through the temple. Her throat had been slashed and her head beaten by a blunt object. Her head was slumped forward and slightly sideways, one hand resting on her thigh. She was clothed in bloodstained civilian dress- blue denim jeans and a simple white sweater, which remained fully zipped and sneakers on her feet.  
  
Near the rifle on the peach coloured carpet was a spent shell. There was also a clump of hair on the end of the shortened barrel. He found the missing piece of phone chord wound around the second woman's neck. A lamp lay beside the couch with human hair around the edge of the lampshade. The blood contrasted against the light coloured carpet, the couch was soaked and the curtains splattered with body fluids. Other than that, the two bodies and the overturned lamp, there were few signs of a struggle. His final observation was that they were both very dead.  
  
He returned to find Mac at the front door, waiting for the police.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
She grimaced slightly, "Yes, I am fine. What is your verdict?"  
  
He shrugged- she'd slipped into full Marine mode again, which definitely meant she wasn't fine. Her degree of professionalism and excruciatingly correct grammar was always an indication she was profoundly affected by an experience. He decided to let it go however, because she never took to being prodded into conversation well, "I agree with you. It could be murder- suicide. The weapon's a Ruger 10/22, looks like a .22, cut down. There are two cartridges jammed in the breech. Two bullets in the head each."  
  
She stared up at him, "Where?"  
  
"The civvy has two through the left side of the face- one through the cheek, the other the temple. The CPO? Upwards through the jaw, then through the right side of her temple."  
  
"Suicide?"  
  
"Probably, but they both look pretty dead. Other than that, what've you got on her friend?"  
  
"They were close. Jane Walters, a civvy. She works in Arlington- wasn't in this morning."  
  
"How long since you spoke to the Chief?"  
  
"3 hours, 44 minutes and about 13 seconds," she replied immediately, "So they died sometime after 1000 this morning."  
  
"How'd she sound when you called?"  
  
"Sick. She wasn't in today because she had the flu, so I agreed to come and see her. I have to present a case starting Thursday and even if she was sick, I couldn't afford the time."  
  
"Was she upset at all?"  
  
"No motive there if that's what you're asking. Any signs of a struggle?"  
  
"A bit of upturned furniture, that's all."  
  
The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, subsequently opened by Mac. Two police officers greeted them. After exchanging greetings, they followed the military officers into the living room and ushered them to the side while they called the homicide branch to dispatch a forensics unit. Seeing her expression harden as she watched the officers make their rounds, Harm wordlessly took her hand again. She ignored it for a minute before relaxing into the contact, silently grateful. After noting their observations, the officers then turned on Harm and Mac, one cornering each. Mac was invited into the kitchen to talk and give a statement.  
  
"Ma'am, I'm Police Sergeant Reid."  
  
He offered a hand, which she shook replying, "Lt Colonel Mackenzie."  
  
They both sat and he began questioning her, "I'm going to ask you to give us a statement. Please answer my questions as honestly as you can with the information you know. Ok, firstly, what time did you arrive here this morning?"  
  
"1258," she responded.  
  
"And you've been here for an hour and half is that correct?"  
  
"Yes Sergeant."  
  
"At what time did you call the police?"  
  
"Forty five minutes ago at 1343."  
  
"Why the delay Colonel?"  
  
"I was, ah, a little shocked after seeing what happened, so I called my partner, the Commander. He suggested calling the police after he arrived."  
  
"What do you do in the Army?"  
  
"I'm Marine Corps, and a lawyer Sergeant."  
  
"So I suppose you don't see scenes such as this very often?" he probed, his tone slowly becoming more condescending.  
  
"More often than you would think," she responded evenly, maintaining his gaze pointedly.  
  
"Did you witness what happened here today?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Were the women dead when you arrived?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What did you see when you got here?"  
  
"I saw the Chief slumped forward as she is know, the weapon in her hand and Jane Walters upright with bullet wounds to the left side of her face. The carpet and curtains and sofa cushions were stained with what appeared to be blood."  
  
"How did you know it was Miss Walters accompanying CPO O'Donnell?"  
  
"Her purse is on the kitchen counter. Driver's license."  
  
"What did you do after you found the two women?"  
  
"I went back to the hallway to find the phone, but the line was cut, so I called my partner on my cell phone and waited there until he arrived."  
  
"So you were alone here from 1 o'clock until half past 1?"  
  
"Yes Sergeant."  
  
"And after that your partner was the only person here with you?"  
  
The contempt in his voice began to irritate her.  
  
"That would appear to be the case given the times I have already enlightened you to."  
  
"Why were you coming here Colonel?"  
  
"To interview Chief Petty Officer O'Donnell to determine whether she would be a valuable witness in an upcoming trial Sergeant."  
  
"Were you involved with the Chief?"  
  
She coughed, her eyebrows rising in shock, "No Sergeant. We'd never met before."  
  
"But you were going to house to interview her for a case you're working on?"  
  
"Yes Sergeant. She was sick today so I couldn't meet her on base. I have to be in court on Thursday so I had to speak with her as soon as possible."  
  
"Do you often do this with potential witnesses Colonel?"  
  
"No Sergeant, I do not."  
  
"People you've never met?"  
  
"Sergeant, I spoke with the Chief on the phone this morning at 0845 to determine whether she would be present at a meeting I am due at in 27 minutes. She informed me that she would be unable to attend that afternoon due to a doctor's appointment at Bethesda, so I asked her if she would mind if I asked her a few questions this morning. She replied that she was perfectly willing to answer my questions, but due to her illness was unable to come into JAG headquarters were I am currently stationed. I advised her that I was able to come to her and speak with her and we arranged to meet here at 1 o'clock, before she left for her appointment in the afternoon and I met with the two other women pressing charges. If that is not a satisfactory explanation of my presence here you can verify the conversation I had with the Chief through Commander Rabb, also stationed at JAG. He was present at the time of the conversation as we were discussing our lunch plans for this afternoon."  
  
"Who was the Chief pressing charges against?"  
  
"Her Commanding Officer in a case of harassment which does not currently pertain to this matter and is not in public record, therefore the details of which I am unable to disclose."  
  
"If sworn charges have been made then you are obliged to tell me."  
  
"I have told you of the nature of the charges and the Chief's involvement to my knowledge so far. I never got to interview her, so I am unaware of why her charges were laid."  
  
"You've mentioned your colleague several times in this conversation. How long have you been involved with your partner?"  
  
"We're partners professionally," she explained, thinking it a misunderstanding.  
  
"I was aware of that fact."  
  
"I do not see how your continued speculation into my personal life bears any pertinence in this situation Sergeant. I believe I have assisted you to the extent of my ability. I cannot tell you any more than I already have."  
  
"You have to answer my questions," he retorted, actually sneering at her.  
  
"I do not have to answer your questions Sergeant. I am a lawyer; you picked the wrong person to throw that one at. I do not have to inform you of anything, now if you'll excuse me, I believe this conversation has reached the scope of it's worth."  
  
The arrival of the homicide squad interrupted their conversation. She sat alone at the table for a moment before the Sergeant returned to her and said, "Thank you for your time Colonel. I am needed in there. You and your partner are free to leave when you wish to, and I've already elicited your contact details from you. I'll be in touch."  
  
She nodded, snorting as he left the room, "More like you want to be needed in there."  
  
"Talking to yourself again?" Harm grinned at her, appearing from the living room, "It's worse than a war zone in there. Come on, let's go."  
  
"How was your chat with the boys in blue?"  
  
"All right, couldn't tell them much apart from what I saw in there. What about you?"  
  
"He was a jerk."  
  
"Oh. One of those people who can't believe there are high-ranking female Marine officers?"  
  
"Not really. One of those men who can't believe women achieve anything in life by means other than sex."  
  
He offered her a hand to extract her from the chair, "How bad was it?"  
  
She accepted and stood, straightening her jacket, "He actually asked if I was 'involved' with the Chief, as in, if we were lovers or something."  
  
He snickered softly, "I'm surprised the guy's still intact."  
  
"Yeah well---" she trailed of a clenched a fist, "It was tempting, especially when he asked me if we were involved too."  
  
"If we were lovers or something?" was the quick reply with just a hint of veiled innuendo.  
  
She smiled gently, "Yeah."  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"That we were involved professionally as partners. Why, what did you expect me to say?"  
  
"Something to that effect," he replied guardedly.  
  
Awkward moment #1 059.  
  
"Of course I half expected him to end up sprawled on the ground after a swift kick to the face, but you're more eloquent than I am I guess," he added as a joke.  
  
"No, I was just wearing a skirt," she replied, "Ever tried to scissor kick someone in a skirt?"  
  
"No, as a matter of fact I haven't."  
  
"Well when you do," she paused on account of the interesting and visual she was getting, "You will understand why they give us BDU's in war zones."  
  
They had reached the front lawn now, and he paused with a hand on her arm, "Are you Ok to drive?"  
  
She nodded, "I'm Ok."  
  
Noting his look she added, "Really. Thank you for coming out here," she smiled slightly, "I needed that."  
  
He stepped closer to her, "That's Ok."  
  
They stood frozen in place, standing quite close. Mac was looking down at her feet, studying the ground with utmost attentiveness.  
  
"Are you really Ok?" he asked her softly.  
  
Mac knew she shouldn't have looked up. If she did, their lips would be less than inches apart.  
  
"Yeah," she answered, lifting her head to look him in the eyes.  
  
Unconsciously, she leant towards him. He mirrored the action. He was very alert to the fact that their lips were almost touching. It would've been nice if he'd kissed her then she thought, a burning sensation rising in her throat until she realised she wasn't breathing. They both looked away hurriedly and she inhaled deeply.  
  
Awkward moment #1 060.  
  
"Where are you going now?" he questioned, trying to recover from the silence.  
  
"I've got to talk to Able Seaman Mendel and Petty Officer Houston at 1430, so I'd better get going."  
  
"Call me when you get there Ok? I have to finish preparing our opening for tomorrow, otherwise I'd go with you."  
  
Her eyes narrowed, "I'm fine you know."  
  
"Yeah, but if something like that ever happened to you I wouldn't be."  
  
Awkward moment #1 061.  
  
"Are you Ok?" she inquired, suddenly realising the reasons behind his reaction. It was unlike either of them to verbally admit they needed each other, but it was said in different ways- his protectiveness was one.  
  
"That was some pretty horrible stuff that went on there today."  
  
She nodded in agreement, "Cold-blooded murder is never pretty."  
  
"Mac---"  
  
"We're fine," she assured him, placing a hand on his arm, "Nothing like that is ever going to happen to me."  
  
She saw his eyes become guarded, and she could no longer read his expression. She pulled her hand away quickly.  
  
Awkward moment #1 062.  
  
"Just call me when you get there Ok?"  
  
"Sure," she responded softly, stepping away towards her car.  
  
"Mac---"  
  
Awkward moment #1 063.  
  
"I've got to go, I'll talk to you in about twenty-seven minutes."  
  
"Bye."  
  
"Yeah, see you later."  
  
He closed the door for her as she slid into her seat, watching his facial expression curiously before sighing. It had been such a good day before she'd walked in to find the friends dead. They'd known each other since high school, she reflected, but if one had indeed murdered the other, how well did they really know each other? And how well could you really know someone if a high-school friend had failed to notice her companion becoming a cold-blooded killer? Could people really keep secrets that big from each other?  
  
She laughed at herself.  
  
Of course they could.  
  
She knew that.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A/N: The murder-suicide or double murder as it may be portrayed here is based around an actual case in which the official ruling was murder-suicide near my hometown in 1991. Julie-Ann Leahy and Vicki Arnold both died from gunshot wounds, and Leahy was also assaulted in a way very similar to the described assault of the fictional Jane Walters. These two women were brutally murdered in what is perhaps the most important case in Australian forensic history; the horrific nature of the crime is almost unparalleled in this country. The verdict of the coroner was however murder-suicide, despite gapping holes in the police theory including the cartridges and the jammed breech and several other nasty facts which deem the theory improbable at best and impossible at worst. The truth of this matter has never been recovered, and police to this day say they are right and that their investigation covered all possibilities, despite the statements by officers that a third party was considered unlikely and that this element was not explored. In the following chapters, I'll illustrate the main flaws in the police theory through the case portrayed in this fic. Until then, Vicki Arnold was painted a murderer in death despite contrary evidence and reasonable doubt as to her guilt and Julie-Ann Leahy was viciously killed- I still pray that the truth will be sought and may they rest in peace.  
  
Also, a short disclaimer- the information for the description of the crime scene and much of the evidence was taken from Robert Reid's novel 'Third Party To Murder' which explores the possibility of a double murder causing the death of Leahy and Arnold as mentioned above. 


End file.
